by Lucy Evanson
“What?”
“I barred the door just in time. But he was there, right outside. I knew that he...that he wanted to touch me,” she whispered. “He said that my mom wouldn’t believe me if I told her about it. He said that it was my duty to let him...you know.” She shivered. She could still remember the sound of Randall’s breath on the other side of her door, like a nightmare come to life. Being so far from all of that only reminded her how close she had come to something truly horrible. “That was the last night I spent at home.” It was almost too much to bear to look at David, but when she did, she saw that his eyes were blazing with cold fire.
“That son of a bitch,” he muttered. “If I ever meet that guy, he’s going to regret he tried that.” Another rumble of thunder rolled across the hills, underlining what he had said.
“It was scary, I have to admit.” She took a deep breath and tried to sweep all of those memories out of her mind. “But they say every cloud has a silver lining.”
He snorted. “Do you really believe that?”
“Well, I got out of that house before anything worse happened,” she said. “I got to see Polly again.”
His expression finally warmed. “Well, that has been a good thing,” he allowed. “No doubt about it. She’s been thrilled to have you around.”
“And I got to meet you.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know if I’d call that much of a silver lining,” he said. “But I’m glad you’ve been around too.”
“So there have been some good things that came out of it. Maybe I should even thank Randall. In a way, he forced me to get going, to think about what I wanted to do,” she said. “Before that, I was just kind of drifting along, without really worrying too much about what I want out of my life.”
“And now you know?”
“Well, maybe not exactly, but I know that I don’t want to go to Iowa City and live with my aunt. I don’t want to take over her cats when she dies.”
“Her cats?”
“Never mind,” she said. “I just mean, I don’t want to be alone in this life,” she said. She brushed her hair back behind her ear again, but it was useless. The wind was too strong.
David cocked his head as he studied her. “I’m sure you won’t be alone. You’re a beautiful young woman. There are going to be plenty of men who would marry you in a heartbeat. If there aren’t already, I mean.”
Melanie shrugged. “Maybe so,” she said. “But I don’t want just any man. I want somebody special.”
“Let me talk to Barney,” David said, his eyes twinkling. “I don’t know how serious he really is about Polly.”
“You leave him out of this,” she said as she laughed and slapped David’s shoulder. “He is a nice man, though. You know, for every man I’ve met like Randall, there’s another man I’ve met who’s just the opposite. I’ve known some men who were really wonderful.”
“Like your dad?”
“Not just him, but yes, like my dad,” she said. “The good evens out the bad. It makes me feel a little better about finding somebody special, like I said.”
“So what is it that makes a man special, then?”
“It’s not just one thing. It’s when he’s not afraid to show his true feelings for somebody,” she said. “Like when Polly got sick. I could see how much you cared about her by the way you acted. Or when you went back for Lee.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I saw a side of you I hadn’t seen before,” she said.
“You almost saw me whupping Benz in front of his boy.”
“I hate violence,” she said. “I’m glad you didn’t fight him. But...I have to say, I’m happy that you were willing to fight if it came to that.”
He shook his head. “This is a good example of how I don’t understand women.”
“You were brave,” she said. “But you weren’t just this senseless animal. That’s very attractive.” She watched as he put on an embarrassed grin and looked away. It was a cute gesture and only reinforced what she had come to realize earlier: she was falling for him, hard and fast. “So I guess what I’m saying is, I want a man who has...your qualities.”
“My qualities.”
“I want a man like you,” she said. Then she took a breath, reached for his hand, and smiled.
~ ~ ~
A man like me. It was laughable. Too silly to even consider. Him. With her. This bookish girl who was incapable of taking a joke. Of course, it wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate her as a woman. There were plenty of things he liked about her. Plenty of good qualities, as she would say. Melanie was attractive in a way that the girls in town simply couldn’t match, blending physical beauty with a grace and elegance like he’d never seen before. She made everything that she did look good, which is why he so often found himself staring at her. And then, when you added an infectious optimism and a warm, caring heart, you ended up with a woman that any sane man would appreciate.
If he were looking to get hitched, he would have been hard pressed to think of another girl in town—or another girl anywhere, for that matter—who would make a better match for him. As far as potential fiancées went, she was about as close to perfect as he could imagine. But the problem with that idea was that he didn’t want to get married. Ever.
“So what do you think about what I said?”
He gently, but firmly, pulled his hand from hers. “I think you got the wrong man.” Marriage was fine for some people; there were those who just needed others. David had nothing against people like that. In fact, even some of his friends were that way. Sam, for instance. He had the wife, the kids, the whole extended family right across the road. Maybe it was an Indian thing, needing a tribe. David, on the other hand, didn’t see the reason for it. He wasn’t some dumb animal, like one of the steers that had to be part of a herd. He was stronger than that. He was better.
Melanie was undeterred. In fact, her smile only brightened. “Believe me, I was surprised myself when I realized it,” she said. “Especially after how we first met.”
“I was just thinking about that the other day,” he said. “You still owe me fifty cents, by the way.”
“You see what I mean? This is not the way to win a lady’s heart,” she said, stepping close. “But somehow you did.” She reached for him and laid her hands on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.
David didn’t want to marry her. But looking at her then, so close, so pretty, he sure did want to kiss her. Her eyes had never seemed warmer or more inviting, as though he could just tumble forward and lose himself there. Her lips were parted slightly in a smile. He could almost hear his pulse, his heart had begun to pound so strongly.
It would be so easy. He could take her by the hips, pull her close, and find her mouth with his. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing her. A girl as beautiful as she was, living in the same house with him...well, it was natural to think about it. Quite often, in fact. And if she were one of the girls down at the saloon, he wouldn’t even be hesitating. He’d have already taken her in his arms and he’d already have his lips against hers, his body against hers.
But she’s not one of the bar girls. This is Melanie. He hadn’t known her for long, but one day had been enough to know that he was attracted to her. A bit longer made him realize he liked her. But now he felt...respect for her too. And for her, a little harmless kiss might not be so harmless. In her stories, the guy only kisses the girl when they’re about to begin living happily ever after together. And that’s not an idea I want to put in her head. Funny thing, when you know a girl too well to give her a little kiss.
No, the last thing he needed was a girl who thought that a kiss meant more than it did. David gently took her hands and removed them from his shoulders. “Melanie,” he said. “You’re a beautiful girl. You’re sweet and you’re kind. I’ve never met another girl like you. But I’m not looking for a woman. And if I won your heart, well, it wasn’t something I was aiming to do.”
&nb
sp; Her expression gave away the emotions that were tumbling within her: surprise, confusion, and not a small amount of hurt. “David, I...I don’t know what to say. Is there another girl you’re sweet on?”
“There’s no other girl,” he said.
“Then why?”
He tried to smile at her, though his eyes gave him away. “Melanie, I’m just not the marrying kind of man,” he said. “Hell, before you showed up I can’t remember the last time I was at home two nights in a row.”
“So? Hasn’t it been nice, spending time with us?”
“It’s been real good,” he said. “I mean, it’s been fine.”
“Well, what’s the problem then?”
“The problem is that I had my life just the way I liked it,” he said. “You know, before the kid showed up. And before you got here. No offense.”
“Polly told me that all you did before was hang out at the saloon.”
“That’s not all I do,” he said. “In case you didn’t notice, I have a whole ranch to run here.”
“So you’re either working or at the bar. That’s how you like things?”
“Well...yeah.”
“Do you really want to spend the rest of your life alone?”
“Who said I’m alone?”
Melanie blinked a few times. “Well, aren’t you? Who do you have that’s there for you when you need them?”
“I have Polly, I have the guys—”
“They have to be here,” she said. “They work for you. It’s not exactly the same.”
He shrugged. “Well, I have friends too.”
“Everybody has friends when they’re young,” she said. “But friends come and go in this life. Families last forever.”
David’s laugh shot out, fast and hard, bitter as wormwood. One thing he knew about families was that they all fell apart eventually. They were fragile and easily torn. Whether because of accidents or age, disease or drink, an empty purse or a wandering eye, families could break as easily as an eggshell under a boot. “Forever? Now you’re not even making sense. Did my family last forever? Did yours?”
She gasped as though the question had cut her, and her eyes grew watery.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to put it like that. But—”
“My father is gone,” she said. “But his love remains. And mine does too. Are you trying to tell me that you don’t feel anything for your parents, just because they’re gone? You don’t miss your mom? You don’t still love your dad?”
He felt his face grow hot. His folks had passed on only a couple of years ago, and his memory of them was still as sore as a day-old bruise. Melanie was right. Of course she was right. He was beginning to see that she usually was. She was right about his parents, she’d been right about Lee and she’d been right about Benz. It was starting to get annoying. “Of course I miss them,” he said. “I just meant....”
“Meant what? That you don’t want that kind of closeness?”
“No, I do,” he said. “But—”
“But what? You’re too young to get married?”
“No, of course that’s not it,” he said. “But—”
“But what? You have too much important business? Between here and the saloon, I mean.”
“Would you let me talk? I just mean....” His voice died in his throat as he finally tore his gaze away and stared at the sky behind her.
“What do you mean?”
“We gotta go.” He could only manage those few words; it felt like all the air had been ripped from his lungs.
“All right,” she huffed. “I agree. We should go. There’s no use talking about this anymore. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.”
“Not that,” he growled. “Look.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face the coming storm.
She gasped as she clutched for his wrists. “Good Lord, no,” she whispered. He could feel her body become tense under his fingertips.
It was hard to believe that this was the same sky that had hung overhead only this morning. The blue was long gone, and even the gray and black clouds had largely disappeared. There was nothing but a sickly green above them, like the heavens were rotting from within. The wind was constant now, and they could see torrents of rain spilling down in the distance as the sky spit lightning down to the earth. It was going to be a hellish storm.
But what had really taken his breath away was the single cloud, still miles away, that was behaving like no other. Behaving like no cloud should. It was reaching down to the earth with one thick, twirling finger, as if tracing a line on a map. Directly to the ranch. Directly toward them.
“Tornado,” he said.
Chapter 11
Summer in Wisconsin meant storms. They were frequently the kind that brought buckets of rain, lightning that turned night to morning, and thunder that you could feel rattling your chest. Melanie was used to weather like that. Storms used to scare her as a child, but as an adult she found them rather thrilling.
Sometimes, however, the storms were worse. Some brought hail, from the sandlike grains that stung the skin, to the walnut-sized chunks that would hammer down on rooftops, destroy crops, and do a bit more than sting if you got caught in it. That she didn’t like so much.
And then there were tornadoes. They were infrequent, but not so rare as to be surprising. Melanie had heard about them all her life, but after eighteen years in Wisconsin, she had still never seen one. Until today. The funnel was swirling above the hills in the distance—several miles away yet, she guessed—and it was almost hypnotic in the way it swayed. Like a snake about to bite.
“Run!” David shouted.
It was difficult to tear her eyes away from the tornado, and it was even worse getting her feet to move. It felt like they had frozen to the ground. It seemed like an eternity before she was able to turn, putting the storm behind her, and she clumsily took a few steps up the hill. The trees, she thought as she headed for the tall oaks atop the ridge. It wasn’t ideal, but there was no other shelter to be found.
David grabbed her arm and pulled her sharply back. Pulled her downhill. Toward the tornado. “Not that way!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get to the root cellar!” He pointed down the long slope.
Melanie could see figures running outside the house, like ants heading for their hill. So far away, she thought. “We’ll never make it,” she whispered, her voice nearly lost amid the building wind.
“And if we stay here, we’ll die for sure,” David said. “Run, now.” His voice was as firm as his grip, and she found herself being pulled down the slope.
The rain began when they were barely halfway down the hill. It started slowly, teasing them with fat drops that smacked against the skin one by one, and then a river dropped from the sky. Melanie had never seen rain like this before. It was cold and heavy and had her drenched in an instant, blurring her vision and slickening the grass as they ran. More than once she slipped, but David scooped her up each time with barely a pause in their descent.
The tornado was close enough that she could see debris being blown around now. It was still too far to identify what the pieces were—they were just black specks against a nearly black sky—but she could guess. Hay and straw. Plants ripped from the earth. Boards and bricks torn from the neighboring farmhouses. She tried not to look, and instead kept her eyes trained on the root cellar at the side of the house.
The door was open, and she could see figures within, waving them on. Maybe we will make it, she thought. Her lungs were burning and her legs were aching, but she felt a surge of energy now that she could see her shelter so close ahead. Melanie gripped David’s hand harder than ever and drove on.
They burst into the root cellar, barely able to stop themselves. Polly and Lee were there. Three of the ranch hands were there. Melanie and David were the last ones to arrive, and it was a good thing, too. There was no room left at all. With the normal supplies that they kept there and the fruit of Polly’s summer canning, the cel
lar was stocked to bursting with boxes, bags and jars. The seven of them only fit when they were pressed against each other closer than peas in a pod. The only way that David was even going to be able to close and bar the door was by sucking in his stomach, and she wasn’t even sure that was going to work. The saving grace was certainly a double-edged one at that: most of the ranch hands were out in the fields, far from the shelter of the root cellar. Fortunately, the property was very large, so it was possible that the funnel would never even threaten many of the men. Those that were closer would need to find a cow, hold on and hope for the best. There was, however, one man in particular who usually stuck close to the house.
“Barney!” Polly cried. “There he is!”
David spun in the doorway. Barney was coming as quickly as he could, but what with a bad ankle on top of five decades of hard work, that didn’t turn out to be very quick at all.
“He’s not gonna make it!” Polly screamed as she pushed to the front and out the door. Before she’d taken two steps outside, however, David grabbed her.
“Get back in there!” he shouted, driving her back inside the cellar, where two of the men grabbed her by the arms. “I’ll get him!”
While David raced toward Barney, Melanie could only watch, trying not to think about the howl that was being carried on the wind, or how the grass was laying down flat, or how David had to fight to keep running in a straight line. It was too scary to think about how little time they had. She only watched and prayed.
When David got to him, he slipped Barney’s arm around his neck and turned back for the root cellar, half-carrying him as they went. Hobbling along with three good legs between them, they made better time than Barney alone, but they were still slow. Too slow.
Melanie stepped to the doorway. She felt hands pulling her back, but she clutched the doorjamb and held firm. She had to see. David and Barney were nearly there, but when she leaned out far enough to see the sky, she knew that they were out of time. The tornado was here. It towered over the ranch, a pillar of smoke and dust intent on erasing everything on the land, nature’s evil side preparing to obliterate all the good. The rain stopped in an instant, like a tap had been turned off, and a demon’s scream, rising straight from hell, filled her ears.
